Hate Is Thy Hardest Blow

Then hate me if thou wilt so, be it now Now as I dost feel worse of my deeds gross Pour thy anger that all in all I bow For sum of hate thy own alone dost cross. Do not when this sorrow I hast resigned And petty mourns I dwell replenished down For if thou wilt pain me in first thou line Not in the last when in relief im crowned. Ah! For none equals thy effect as worst Aye, thee having hate is thy hardest blow Harder than thy free speaking false felt curse For thy hurt lies behind thy normal show. Hate of loving then leaving thou dost so; Without thee, I don't know where i must go.